


Jive and Wail

by rivlee



Series: Midnight Land [4]
Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-22
Updated: 2011-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Runner finds some photos from Lew's past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jive and Wail

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeated ficlet from a prompt by skew_whiff.

Lew Juergens eyed the stack of photographs on his new partner’s desk and cringed. Every single one of his partners always went down to the archives and dug out all the old photos of them they could find. He hoped the whole mess could be avoided this time, but apparently God just didn’t love Lew that much. 

“Conley,” Lew called.

“Yeah, Chuckler?” he answered, coming out of the break room and munching down on an apple.

Runner Conley was the type of kid who couldn’t help his natural smart ass look. It was something about the tilt of his lips. The kid would catch hell for that in later years. If he managed to survive that long. 

“What’s this?” Lew asked, pointing to the desk.

Runner shrugged. “Lt. Stone said if we were to successfully work together I needed to know your past. I went down to the archives and before I could say a word they handed me that. Are they always that snappy?”

“You’re my fifth partner in four years,” Lew said.

“Oh,” Runner said. He sat down with a shocked looked on his face. “Hell, I thought I’d have to worry about replacing a long-term partner.”

“Never had one of those,” Lew said. He sat down in his own chair and pushed at the stack of photographs with a pen. “What do you want to know?”

Runner balanced his apple on his desk. “I flipped though some of them. So your family’s been with Franklin P.D. for a long time huh?”

Lew slowly blinked.

“What?” Runner asked.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Lew asked.

“Uh, no,” Runner said.

Lew shook his head and pulled one of the first photos off the stack. He laughed as he saw himself in his officer’s uniform from this motorcycle days.

“This,” he said, holding the photo out, “is me from 1925.”

“Are those bloomers?” Runner asked.

“Yeah, but everyone wore them.”

“You’re on a motorcycle.”

“It wasn’t uncommon at the time. We didn’t just magically jump on them just because Marlon Brando made a film.”

“Funny,” Runner said.

“I like to thinks so?”

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Speakeasy raid?”

“You’re shittin’ me.”

“100% truth.”

************

Lew didn’t know what he expected to be doing at 39, but working the beat wasn’t one of them. He left the war like so many other fellows and didn’t know what to do with his life. Franklin City needed cops and he still knew how to use a gun. 

He parked his motorcycle in front of _Delilah’s_ and walked the perimeter. Neighbors kept calling, saying a whole bootleg business was running out the back. Lew didn’t care for any bluenosers, but he had a job to do. Even if Prohibition was the dumbest thing he’d heard of in ages.

“You hear to pinch someone, Officer?” one of the street loiterers asked. 

“You want to be a little fish that badly?” Lew asked, smiling widely.

The man’s friends laughed before they walked off.

Lew shook his head and flexed his fingers inside his leather uniform gloves. Winter was coming, bringing a bite in the air. He almost wished he still worked the streets as a flat foot, at least he got a longer wool coat then. The trouser style these days was enough to make him miss his denim overalls from the farm.

He walked around the perimeter again but he didn’t see anyone doling out liquor. Lew couldn’t raid the place all on his own and with no confirmation. Everything seemed on the level, and Lew wasn’t exactly the type to ruin anyone’s a good time. Young kids deserved a chance to dance; it’s what they fought for after all. 

Lew stood outside, taking a moment to listen to the live jazz and look in on those he would always be apart from. He was ancient compared to them, older than their fathers, but he could take a little warmth from their fires.

 

************

“You were already middle aged before World War II?” Runner asked.

Lew nodded. 

“Did you fight in either one?” Runner asked.

“Hell, I fought in both and Korea. Government finally started to catch on to people like me by Vietnam. I could’ve worked in one of their think tanks but I like this city. Only place I’ve ever called home other than the farm.”

“And where was that?”

“Outside of Chicago. Man, you should’ve seen that city when the World’s Fair came through. Still haven’t seen a site like that since.”

“Oh, yeah, nice city, dying laborers, a serial killer. A joyous occasion.”

“The Ferris Wheel, Conley. 1893, firs time anyone saw one. I was just a little kid and hell, all these years later, magic is still there.”

“Remind me to watch you at any carnivals.”

“There’s nothing wrong with finding joy in simple pleasures,” Lew said.

“Okay, Buddha,” Runner said as he pulled out another photograph, “tell me about this one.”

Lew almost choked on his coffee. He didn’t know they had casual shots of him in the archives as well. 

“You’re looking like the cat’s meow there,” Runner said.

“Don’t even,” Lew said. He took the picture and smiled over the image that stared up at him. Lena was in one of her best evening dress, with her hair done up like Loretta Young. Lew was in his nicest evening suit and spats. Lena had laughed at him that night, said he looked like one of the musicians rather than her date to the Police Gala.

“The real story came after this picture was taken.”

“Oh yeah,” Runner said, “what happened there?”

“Lena likes to dance,” Lew said.

 

************

Lew grew up around a few pretty girls, but none of them possessed the beauty of Lena Riggi. She wasn’t like the girls back home, not with the way she owned a room and demanded attention. Lena knew how to make an entrance without making a spectacle. She learned it back in California, rumor had it she worked as one of the girls in the Hollywood Studios. Seeing as how Lena was one of the best dancers in the city, Lew wouldn’t doubt any of that as fact. He always found himself as Lena’s date though, for all the functions, since she said he was _perfectly harmless_ and a _fine gentleman_. 

“You’re staring again,” Lena said as she pulled Lew onto the dance floor.

Lew could feel himself blushing and just ducked his head.

“Such a sweet boy,” Lena mocked as they moved through the glut of jitterbugging couples. 

There was an anticipation in the air as musicians made their way onto the stage. Chairs and tables were pushed back to make more room for the dance floor.

“How do you always get me to do this?” Lew asked.

Lena tugged on Lew’s tie. “You never think about your dance steps when we dance to swing. After a night of you stomping on my toes while attempting the waltz, the least you can do is help a gal fly.”

Lena gave him one more critical look before nodding her head in acceptance. She was paid to dance at this joint, had a locker holding a change of clothes more suited for dancing. Lew was having to make do in a stripped down version of his formal suit. He could already hear the complaints of Miss Ethel Acosta when he dropped off his laundry. 

“You’re no Fred Astaire,” Lena said, “but I’m no Ginger Rogers.”

“Fred wouldn’t know what to do with you anyway,” Lew said.

Lena slapped him on the back of his head just as the music began to start.

It was always a rush, dancing to swing. Gone went the need for proper steps and space apart like the dances he learned as a child. Here it was all about the adrenaline rush, the fast footwork, the twists, the flips, all some confused form of exercise and art. 

They finished their first number, Lena flipping Lew just as well as he flipped her, to a rousing round of applause.

“See,” Lena said, slapping his back, “you just need an audience to shine.”

 

************

“You were a jitterbug champion?” Runner asked.

“In an age before the internet and cable, all we really had were dance halls, soda shops, and cinema.”

“You’re such a relic,” Runner said.

“And you’re an infant,” Lew said.

“Then I guess we’ll make a hell of a partnership,” Runner said.


End file.
